Chapter 11
Aliya and Arthur stood in the palace courtyard, prepared to depart. They exchanged polite words with the king, who nodded his approval, and with Prince Artemis, whose gaze lingered a moment too long on Aliya. As they got into their carriage, she cast a last, puzzled look at Artemis, clutching the mysterious necklace hidden beneath her dress. They were soon riding back to Morvathar in silence, the rhythmic sound of hooves on the cobblestone road filling the air between them.
As the road stretched on and familiar landscapes of Morvathar drew near, Aliya felt a question gnawing at her—a question she'd tried to bury but couldn't. Normally, by this point as per the laws of the Kingdom, Arthur would have already claimed her fully as his wife. He had seen her, had even touched her, yet he'd never crossed that final line. Not that she wanted him to—but it was strange. He was cruel, demanding, and wicked by nature, yet he'd held back. And now, the curiosity she couldn't contain made her summon the courage to ask.
Her voice was soft, hesitant. "Arthur… I've wondered… why haven't you… taken me?"
Arthur turned to her, an unexpected expression flickering in his gaze. Then, a dark, humorless chuckle escaped his lips. He looked forward, eyes cold as stone.
"Be careful what you ask, Aliya," he replied, his voice low and laced with warning. "You might not like my answer."
His words sent a shiver through her, and she immediately regretted speaking. The air between them grew colder, and the rest of the ride home passed in silence.
When they arrived at the castle gates, Aliya felt a surge of relief as the familiar towers of Morvathar loomed above. Arthur instructed her to go directly to her quarters. "Stay there until I say otherwise," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for defiance.
Aliya nodded obediently and was soon flanked by her two loyal servants, Nora and Diane, who greeted her with excited smiles. She returned their warmth, grateful for their familiar faces after the tension of her journey. Their chatter as they led her to her room helped ease her nerves, and she found herself relaxing slightly as they helped her unpack and settle in.
Meanwhile, Arthur strode down the castle corridors, summoned by his father, King Alaric. Upon entering the throne room, he found the king waiting with a stern expression.
"Arthur," King Alaric began, his voice laced with curiosity, "why did you take Lady Aliya with you to the Kingdom of Aerilon? She was not necessary for a diplomatic mission."
Arthur met his father's gaze, a hard glint in his eyes. "I needed her with me," he replied curtly. His tone left little room for further questioning.
The king considered his son for a moment, seeming to weigh his words before giving a small nod. Arthur bowed slightly and excused himself, retreating to the solitude of his chambers. But as he closed the door behind him, he found himself troubled. Why had he resisted the urge to claim Aliya fully as his own? What held him back? He knew he could be ruthless, and yet something within him hesitated. The thought unsettled him deeply, for he had never known himself to care about another's readiness or vulnerability.
In her room, Aliya tried to relax, her servants having left her to rest. She stood by the mirror, staring at her reflection and the faint mark on her back that bore Arthur's initials—AB. She touched it, feeling its texture, the reminder of who owned her. A sigh escaped her as she wandered toward the cupboard and took out the necklace Prince Artemis had given her. She held it in her hands, the pendant's weight familiar yet foreign.
Aliya turned back to the mirror, allowing the pendant to catch the light as she held it to her neck. She traced its shape, her fingers brushing over the intricate design. Suddenly, her vision blurred, and she blinked, trying to refocus. But what she saw in the mirror wasn't her reflection. It was the image of another woman—a woman in a white dress, its fabric stained with crimson, her mouth open in a silent scream.
Aliya stumbled back, her heart pounding in terror, a scream caught in her throat. The room seemed to spin, and she clutched the edge of the vanity, feeling as though she'd stepped into a nightmare. The figure in the mirror vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only her horrified reflection.
A knock at her door jolted her, and before she could compose herself, Arthur entered, his gaze searching and sharp. When he saw her pale face, his expression softened just a fraction, worry flashing in his eyes—something she'd just seen in him for the second time after the incident during riding. He crossed the room in swift strides, kneeling beside her, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.
Aliya's hands trembled as she tried to speak. "I… I saw something… something in the mirror. A woman… in a white dress… she was covered in blood
As Aliya struggled to explain the terrifying vision in the mirror, her voice broke. She couldn't understand what she had seen—a woman, bloody and haunting, staring back at her from her own reflection. The horror and confusion welled up inside her, and before she could hold it back, tears began streaming down her cheeks.
Arthur's brows drew together as he watched her, a mixture of confusion and something unfamiliar crossing his face. She sensed his usual harshness falter. Without a word, he reached out, pulling her into his arms in a tight embrace. His touch was firm yet somehow gentle, and the warmth of his hold began to soothe her shaking form. She buried her face against his chest, her sobs muffled as she clung to him, feeling a strange mixture of fear and comfort.
Aliya was stunned, unable to process this unexpected kindness from him. He wasn't saying anything, wasn't scolding her for showing weakness. His hand traced calming circles on her back, and she could feel his steady heartbeat as if it were meant to assure her she was safe. Little by little, her breathing slowed, her mind quieted, and her body relaxed against him.
Eventually, exhaustion took over, and she drifted into sleep in Arthur's arms. He held her a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Carefully, he lifted her from the chair and carried her to the bed, laying her down with surprising tenderness.
As he adjusted her pillows, he noticed her hand tightly clenched around something. Gently, he pried her fingers open, revealing the necklace that had started everything. He held it up, examining the pendant with a frown like he had seen it before.
His jaw clenched, a wave of anger sparking in his eyes. Why does she have this? he wondered, the question filling his mind with suspicion and frustration. The prince had given it to her, and now Arthur's own claim to Aliya felt threatened, though he couldn't say why.
Arthur glanced back at her sleeping form, his hand tightening around the pendant.